My legs twisted in the tangled sheets as I battled the urge to open my eyes. With the smell of alcohol still permeating from my pores, I took a deep breath and instantly regretted it. Don’t move. It wouldn’t get any better if I did and as nausea washed over me in a wave, breaking a sweat on my upper lip, I dared not test the theory. So this is a hangover.

For better functionality and user experience, epublib.info uses cookies (read our Cookies Policy ), which can be disabled at any point by adjusting your browse's settings. If you continue to use this site we will assume that you are happy with it.I Accept